Getting By
by truly unruly
Summary: Oneshot. "We could've been really happy, you know. I know you didn't want to return to this world, especially not with a cheap knock-off like me, but we could've got by. But you couldn't do that, could you? In the end, you couldn't love me."


**I'm beginning to miss **_**Doctor Who**_**, if that isn't obvious from all the oneshots I've been putting up. Dx COME BACK, DOCTOR! But writing is the only way I can sate my yearning. :( So, here is my first Rose one! :D But can I make just one thing clear: this is NOT a Rose-basher! I like Rose just as much as the next person (even though I miss S1-Rose) and this is, in no way, meant to insult or bash her or her fans. This is just another possibility of what could happen in the parallel world with Hand!Doctor. So far we have: Handy dying; Handy and Rose living happily ever after; Rose rejecting Handy and going to find the real Doctor. This one has similarities to No. 3 but isn't entirely the same. Well … enjoy!**

_**Summary: **_**"We could've been happy, you know. I know it wasn't what you thought you were getting when you went back, but we could've got by. But you couldn't do that, could you? In the end, you couldn't love me." Not happy 10.5/Rose.**

* * *

**Getting By**

It was a small house, a _cottage _really, but a gorgeous one nonetheless. It was a two-storied, red-bricked building, with ivy creeping up the side and an adorable ruby-red door. For a moment, Rose couldn't believe she was in the right place—_surely, _the man she was expecting to see would _never _want a home like this! It was so … _domestic_.

Uncertainty weighing down her every step, she walked up the stone pathway to the front door, her hands deep inside the pockets of her blue jacket. She hesitated at the door, her hand poised to knock. _This is ridiculous_, she realized, _why am I here? We haven't seen each other in five years … and even so, this has to be the wrong place. I'll just—_

However, before her thought could finish, the door swung open, and a grinning man appeared in the doorway. His smile fell the moment he laid eyes on her, and his lips pulled into a thin line.

"Hello," she squeaked, her eyes as wide as his. He sighed heavily, and leaned on the doorway, crossing his arms. It was such a familiar position—yet, on the wrong man—that her throat burned with the urge to cry.

"Hello, Rose," he replied stiffly, "What are you doing here?"

"I just … " the words caught in her throat as she wondered what in the world she could say. The speech she had planned on the train died on her lips, leaving her mind blank, and she awkwardly shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"If it's what I _think _it's about, don't worry," he told her, "Pete already called. The Dimension Canon was a failure then?"

His cold, yet honest reminder stung her, and she flinched, unable to meet his eyes, "Yes. As it turned out, it was dismantled too … thoroughly, when we got back from Norway. I guess I wasted the last few years, hmm?"

The corners of her mouth quirked up in a sardonic smile, and she saw his eyes soften. His posture relaxed and he straightened.

"Why are you _here_, Rose?" he asked gently, tilting his head slightly. She swallowed thickly, and shrugged. How could she tell him the truth? Would he laugh at her? Slam the door in her face? Despise her, and give her the admonishment she rightfully deserve?

"C'mon, I don't have all day," he grumbled jokingly, and for a moment he reminded her so much of Donna Noble that she almost laughed. _Almost_.

"For five years … " she whimpered, her eyes swimming with tears, "I've been so … _sure_ that I'd see him again. Every night, I'd think of him, every morning, _all _the time. And to know that I-I'll never … that it didn't work; it was a _failure_ … I just wanted to see his face, one last time," she took a deep breath, and shook her head, "You're not him, but you remind me of him. I just needed this, John."

He was abnormally silent for a second, staring at her with his smoldering eyes, which briefly seemed to contain the passionate, furious fire she'd only seen in his eyes during their most intense moments. Then, he looked away, and she remembered that he was not the Doctor; they did _not _share those amazing moments together; he was just completely human John Smith.

"Was that all I was to you?" he asked quietly, "Somebody with his face, is that it? I just look enough like him to make you feel like you're still with him."

"No," she cried quickly, "_No!_"

"Is that why you kissed me that day, Rose?" he continued, ignoring her protests, "Because you could fool yourself into thinking it was _him_ you were kissing, couldn't you? I was just a freak—an impossible metacrisis. I wasn't _him_."

"Please," Rose begged, her tears threatening to overpower her, "John, I just … I love him, John. And I'm sorry that I couldn't help you like I promised. I just _need _him. I _love _him!"

Once again, their eyes met, and whatever argument could have emerged was immediately ended. The pain in both their eyes was apparent, and a single tear spilt onto Rose's cheek. Once again, John looked away, but then met her gaze again with a distant smile.

"We could've been happy, you know," he told her, shaking his head slowly, "I wasn't the Doctor, and I'm still not. When you went back to your Universe, you thought you would never leave, and instead you were stuck with _me_ on Bad Wolf Bay."

Rose opened her mouth to disagree, but John cut her off, "I know it wasn't what you thought you were getting when you went back, but we could've got by. I loved you, Rose, and I would've done anything for you. But you couldn't do that, could you? I wasn't him, and in the end, you couldn't love me. It was _always _him."

Rose lifted her head with a frown, and replied, "And now I'll never see him again."

"Nope," he agreed, and she glared at him. He rolled his eyes, and seriously stated, "Rose. The one thing he wanted—what he _always _wanted—was for you to lead a brilliant life. And if he didn't think you were strong enough to do that without you, he wouldn't have left you here. He knew you were _exceptional_, Rose, and he knew what a difference you could make here; how _incredible _you could be."

Rose smiled at him—a real, proper smile—and nodded, "Well, I guess I'm stuck here. I'm gonna make the best of it, trust me."

He returned her grin eagerly, and suddenly Rose was reminded of when they first left Bad Wolf Bay—how much his similarities and differences to the Doctor had astounded her, even if she would never admit it. Of course, she had been so determined, so desperate, to return to the Doctor that she pushed him away and threw herself into rebuilding the Dimension Canon. He took a job at Torchwood One and attempted to forge a place in her life, but her family had trouble accepting him, and she could hardly bear to face him, fully convinced that he was just an imposter with the Doctor's face.

Eventually, he had surrendered, and transferred to the smaller Torchwood Three, in Cardiff. The Tylers hadn't heard from him since, save for the annual updates from the head of Torchwood Three, Ianto Jones, but when the Dimension Canon fiasco was finally shut down, and when Rose realized she had spent five years of her life living in the past and putting all her hopes in a pipe dream, she made the impulsive decision to travel to Wales and see him. Part of her wanted to see her Doctor's face again—because she remembered every detail of his face, but she just wanted to see that _sparkle _in his eyes—while another part wanted … just a tiny bit … to see if there was anything there. Maybe, if he still loved her.

"What about us?" she demanded, her eyes wide and innocent as she gazed at him. He stiffened visibly, and shook his head, "_Us?_"

"Is there … I mean, do you think … " she shrugged, and fiddled with her sleeve, "Do you still love me?"

The silence that followed was unlike any of the previous. It was thick with tension and anticipation, as she awaited his answer to her enquiry.

Then, he said three words that changed everything.

"Rose, I'm married."

It felt like everything went crashing down around her ears; once again, she had put all her hopes into a pipe dream, one which became starkly obvious when she noticed the thin gold band on the second finger of his left hand.

"_Oh_."

He smiled grimly, "Sorry."

"No—_no!_ I'm sorry!" she squeaked, covering her face with her hands, "Oh, God …!"

"Don't be embarrassed. I was surprised too," he quipped, before pulling her hands away, "Rose … "

"It was so stupid," she groaned, looking up towards the stars she would never see close up, "How could I think that you would wait for me? After how you were treated … _God!_"

She sighed again, and he chuckled, "God, Rose, do you think that even if I _did _wait for you, we would end up together?"

Rose looked up at him in confusion, waiting for him to elaborate.

"You don't _love me_, Rose," he told her, "You love him. You will _always _love him. But you shouldn't lock away your heart just because its desire is so far away. He _wants _you to love again. Trust me, I've been in his head. You have so much love to give, but you can only give it if you accept the past and move on to the future, okay?"

Before either could say anymore, a pale arm wraps itself around John's, and a petite, shockingly familiar blonde woman appeared next to him, her pretty face lighting up at the sight of Rose.

"John, who's this?" she asked lightly, smiling kindly at Rose, who wasn't sure what to hate more: the fact that she knew this woman (or, at least, the parallel version), the fact that she was so sweet, or the fact that she was rather heavily pregnant.

"An old friend, Reinette," John replied, smiling at her with obvious adoration—he looked so in love with this woman, that it almost moved Rose to tears, "This is Rose. Rose, my wife, Jeanne."

"Please—I prefer Reinette," she laughed, before holding out a hand expectantly, her sweet grin never fading, and despite herself, Rose couldn't make herself take it. Instead, she stepped back and whispered, "Actually, I should go … "

"Are you sure?" Reinette asked, surprised, "I mean, if you want, I could put on the kettle for you. Obviously I can't have caffeine," she said this last part with a good-natured giggle and a pat on her round stomach, "but I could—"

"Nah, that's okay," Rose quickly declined, "I'll stop interrupting you two. Um, I guess ... maybe, I'll see you again. Goodbye."

She went to leave, leave such a happy couple (_almost family_, her traitorous mind pointed out) far behind her, before she paused; there was one more thing she wanted to say.

"Oh, and John," she called as she turned back around, "T-thank you. Thank you _so _much."

John smiled kindly at her, before concernedly asking, "Will you be alright, then? About … you know."

"Oh, you know," she sighed, with a large grin, "I'll get by."

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… **yes. I liked Reinette. And 10.5. You're gonna flame me, aren't you?**

**Well, I can't be the ONLY one! –**_**looks around Reinette Fans base. Is alone—**_**Oh. Maybe I am. Nevertheless, this story didn't focus on Reinette THAT MUCH, even if the end was 10.5/Reinette flufftastic. It was more about getting by, don't you think? Rose learned that in order to live the fantastic life the Doctor wanted for her, she must accept her life on the alternate world—and, of course, that she CAN live this life without the Doctor. Meanwhile, Handy—urm, John—learned to forgive and forget. Happy-ish ending!**

**Please review! Remember: con-crit is helpful, and flames will be used to BURN YOUU. Um … thank you for taking the time to read. :D**


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